


plain and simple now

by Hiyami



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Ice Cream, M/M, Poor Derek, Pre-Relationship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-21
Updated: 2013-06-21
Packaged: 2017-12-15 16:10:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,012
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/851476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hiyami/pseuds/Hiyami
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>saucefactory: SO HAS ANYONE WRITTEN FIC WHERE STILES’S FOODGASMS MAKE DEREK UNCOMFORTABLE IN VERY <i>PARTICULAR</i> WAYS</p><p>That is all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	plain and simple now

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Saucery](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saucery/gifts).



> Because I love Saucery’s writing and I saw this and pulled it into another tab and just got around to addressing it. Because this is an amazing idea. All the foodgasms. All the uncomfortable Dereks. :D Note that this is terribly unedited and kind of spur-of-the-moment-y. Kinda. Point out any terribad-ness. I promise I’ll come back and fix it if I see it. :3
> 
> Also, I’m a bit sleep-drunk and may have lots of nonsense feeding into this.

The two teens crashed into Stiles’ house, exuding the careless sweat and laughter that came of long familiarity and inside jokes. The door banged open as they practically fell into the house. From Stiles’ room, Derek could hear everything. As was typical, the two dumped their gear by the stairs - no doubt Stiles would drag his up on the way up and Scott would grab his on the way out when he left.

But of course, they both had other priorities. Priorities involving the kitchen and sweets and all things that are cold and delicious and obviously intended to give Derek a heart attack.

Really, he wasn’t kidding. 

He normally waited for the two downstairs in the kitchen to get them started on whatever tasks for the day that he needed help with, but recently, he’d found himself taking refuge in Stiles’ room until they were down with their after-practice snacks.

And for good reason.

Because really, for all everyone said that Stiles was a terrible eater and it was kind of horrifying to watch, when it came to ice cream or popsicles or anything like that, that was clearly, clearly not the case. Derek challenged any werewolf aware of its senses to sit in the same room as Stiles while he was eating ice cream. It was cruel. Absolutely terrible and horrible and just—

And Scott didn’t count.

So yeah. Derek had fled and now he waited upstairs instead of downstairs.

From the sound of the clatter he was hearing, though, it seemed like they’d finished up early. He shrugged his shoulders as he looked around Stiles room, making sure everything he’d touched was back where it had been before he’d come. Satisfied Stiles wouldn’t notice a thing, he lowered himself into the small couch beside the bed where he’d been relegated to reading the dictionary that one time the hacker-boy had shown up.

But of course, preparations or no, he’d been wrong, because when the door opened, he’d had to hide a cringe. Because they weren’t done with their snack. Of course not. Why would life be easy for him, why would he possibly be right about this little thing?

No, Stiles was going to eat his ice cream right here in the room with Derek and the werewolf couldn’t help but be suddenly relieved that he was sitting in the small chair where he’d be able to hunch over to hide anything that might come up.

Heh. Come up. Come. Heheh.

Wait, no, brain come back. Derek gave himself a mental shake as Stiles and Scott generally grumbled over his presence and got settled. It was a testament to how often he’d done this of late that they weren’t even surprised.

Still, in the quiet moments that followed, Derek simply watched because how could he not? It was like a goddamn train wreck, watching Stiles settle at his desk chair, tilted back just a little bit as he lifted a spoon filled with ice cream to his mouth. And he licked the spoon. He couldn’t eat his ice cream like anyone else, spooning it into his mouth. Oh, no, that would be too easy. 

Stiles brought spoon to his lips and licked at the tip before splitting his lips just enough to feel the coolness as he suckled the ice cream into his mouth. Just enough for a taste while the sweet melted into his lips, painting the creases white. Then he’d scoop the rest of the ice cream out of the spoon and into his mouth with his tongue before laving the metal to catch all of the flavor.

And then he’d take up some more and repeat the process.

But that wasn’t even the worst part. 

The worst part was the sounds. 

The fucking _sounds_! 

Derek would swear up and down that he had purely innocent intentions when he came over - hell, that was why he’d taken to waiting in the room instead of the kitchen - but he challenged anyone to see the way Stiles ate ice cream and not dub it obscene. 

Or hear it. Because honestly, as much as it was like watching a train wreck with the way he couldn’t tear his eyes away, at least he’d been able to (mostly) remove himself from the situation. 

But it wasn’t as though he could close his ears the way he could his eyes and he damn sure couldn’t help the reaction in his pants either. The way Stiles’ tongue dipped out between his lips caused his dick to jerk, but it was the way Stiles sounded that had Derek hunching forward, arms crossed over his legs as he reached over to take the dictionary off the shelf. 

He could only hope the way he had it opened across his lap wasn’t awkward. 

Stiles fucking moaned as he took another bite of ice cream and Derek wanted to smash his head against a wall because his dick wasn’t getting the message. No, Stiles was not asking him to throw him down and have his merry way with him in front of Scott. Nope, nope, nope. 

But Stiles made another sound and Derek could swear his dick was just twitching in his pants, gradually hardening as the boys continued eating their dessert. 

“So, did you need something?” Stiles asked, finally, licking at his lips to take in that last bit of flavor. 

Derek damn near sang with relief. “I just wanted to go over the notes on the mountain ash,” he answered easily, referring to the papers Deaton had given him. 

And then Scott fucking put his bowl on the desk and slid it over to Stiles, a grin in place as he looked Derek in the eyes and said, “Here, why don’t you have the rest of mine? Jackson was being a dick so I think I’m probably going to keep it light ‘til tomorrow. Don’t wanna puke or anything, you know?”

“Wait, really?” Stiles perked up, greedily dragging bowl within his grasp, the spoon already making its way to his lips.

Derek wanted to cry.

**Author's Note:**

> Title comes from Mat Kearney's "Count on Me". Despite the boys' pre-relationship status, I thought it fit.


End file.
